


Silverbacks

by mamadeb



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-15
Updated: 2000-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamadeb/pseuds/mamadeb
Summary: Of all the gay bars in DC, why did Skinner have to walk into this one?





	Silverbacks

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Silverbacks by Debra Fran Baker

Author: Debra Fran Baker  
Title: Silverbacks  
Pairing: Mulder/Skinner  
Rating: NC-17  
Archive: Yes  
Email:   
Website: http://www.NightRoadsAssoc.com/  
Disclaimer: Not mine. This story may be reproduced for personal use only.  
Summary: Of all the gay bars in DC, why did Skinner have to walk into this one?  
Notes: This is from RAC's wonderful zine, Wounded Heroes, and I can't thank her enough for taking my last minute offering, or for editing it so very well. I was in breathtaking company there.

* * *

Silverbacks  
By Debra Fran Baker

When he first walked in the bar, I was too busy letting myself get groped in the corner, preparatory to being dragged into the back room and then being forced quite willingly to my knees, to be more than mildly curious. The big leather daddy who had my crotch in his hand was pretty much keeping my attention focused.

He was still standing there, nursing a beer, when I finally stumbled back into the bar, having been reamed out more thoroughly than mere words. Leather daddy followed me out, looking thoroughly satisfied with the last half hour or so. I myself was moving somewhat stiffly, but it was what I'd wanted. 

Walter Skinner took one look at both of us, and then stared straight at leather daddy. "Get the Hell away from him." His eyes seemed to glow with hatred and something else, something I couldn't touch.

Leather daddy shrugged. "I'm done with him anyway. You can have your turn now, if you don't mind seconds. Tell you something...pretty boy here gives good head."

Skinner...changed. His face, which had held his normal anger, became cold and hard. He stood up even straighter, seeming to loom over leather daddy, despite the other's extra inches. 

He smiled, and the room's temperature dropped. I tried to fade into the background, my own heart pounding.

"He does?"

Leather daddy smiled back. My heart pounded faster. "Oh, yeah. And his ass is sweet and tight. How's yours?"

They began to circle each other as the rest of the patrons cleared space around them. They weren't, couldn't be, fighting over me. Leather daddy had already had me and Skinner...I'd known what Skinner felt for years, but I also knew he'd never violate the rules about fraternization. Except, I wasn't his subordinate any more. I shivered. 

"Want to find out?" 

"You want me?" 

Leather daddy was all in black from his jacket to his jeans, and festooned with chains and tattoos. Skinner was in full FBI drag, except for his loosened tie. I knew he was armed, just as I was, but I also knew he wasn't going to draw a weapon here. When two silverbacks fight for dominance, they only go hand to hand, and we all knew that instinctively. 

"Mulder, take my glasses." He held them out to me. He should have looked naked without them. He looked beautiful, primal. His eyes glowed with cold rage. I took them, not bothering to hide my arousal. 

I saw other eyes in that bar shining with desire, other crotches filled with need, other faces sick with envy. I wanted to display those glasses like a prize. I wanted to go down on my knees in front of him and everyone else. I wanted to run away as fast as I could. I held his glasses carefully and stood still.

"Good idea. Don't want them hurt, do we?" Leather daddy sneered at the glasses.

"You worry about that, boy." Skinner sneered back.

"Oh, tough guy in that fancy suit."

"Some of us don't need to wear our manhood on the outside." The bouncer stepped forward, but Skinner quelled him with one glance.

"How come I got your pretty boyfriend, then? How come you never did? Maybe you weren't man enough for him." Leather daddy's grin was just as cold, just as terrifying.

Skinner lashed out with his fist, raging pouring out of him like an icy volcano. It connected but leather daddy wasn't fazed. He just reared back and jabbed Skinner in the stomach. And then it all moved too fast for me to describe - a flurry of fists and feet and grunts and howls and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

I knew Skinner boxed, and all of us got hand-to-hand training in Quantico, but this was neither. This was pure animal win or die, and leather daddy was not dying. Skinner was on his knees now and I could feel every blow as it struck him. There was less envy in the eyes around me now, but I didn't care.

"Surrender?"

In answer, Skinner reached forward and grabbed him by the legs, and the boxing match turned into wrestling as the two men rolled over the floor together in a parody of an embrace, still punching and kicking.

Skinner finally got him pinned, using the mass of his shoulders to hold the other man down. "You are mine."

Leather daddy panted for a moment and then kicked out again. He bounced to his feet and dragged Skinner to his. They were both breathing hard, and blood was leaking from leather daddy's nose and Skinner's mouth. They stood there staring at each other for a very long time.

Then, almost as one, they both pulled their arms back for a massive punch. Leather daddy connected first, but even as he staggered, Skinner managed to glance off his chin. It wasn't enough. Leather daddy began pummeling him again. They'd lost their jackets a long time ago, and both the black t shirt and the white dress shirt were in shreds. I could see bruises beginning on Skinner's body. He wasn't moving as fast as he had, either.

He was crouched on the floor again, arms raised to protect his face. Now people were looking at me with abject pity. 

Leather daddy administered one more kick. "Finished?"

Skinner could only nod. His breathing was labored. I knelt next to him, with my arm around his shoulders and looked at him, the man who'd made me hurt so good, with disgust. "You finished?"

"Just one more thing, pretty boy."

He jerked me to my feet and kissed me hard on the mouth, something we'd avoided earlier. This time the pain did *not* feel good. 

He pushed me back to the floor. "You can stay with your wimp. I don't go ever back for seconds anyway. Have fun with my leftovers, old man." He wasn't even fighting for me.

He walked to the bar and put his arms around two adoring men who were fifteen years younger and prettier than me, men who'd ignored him when he'd first entered the bar but were now all but coming in their so tight jeans for him. The bartender handed him his beer at a single glance.

I turned back to Skinner, who had lowered his arms now that leather daddy had found new toys. "Sir? You all right?" There was blood all over his torn white shirt and his pants were ruined.

"Let's get out of here, Mulder. Now." That should have been a growl.

"Can you stand?" He nodded, but he had to lean on my arm to get to his feet. I handed him his glasses and his suit coat. He tore off a piece of his shirt and wiped his face. He did walk out of the bar on his own, me trailing after him.

"Where's your car, Mulder?"

"Didn't drive, sir. Let me get us a cab." It took six hails before a cab would stop for us, and the cabbie was not happy to take a bloody and beaten passenger. Finally, we showed him our credentials. He offered to drive us to a hospital, but I gave him directions to Skinner's apartment instead. I held his hand all the way there, but he didn't seem to notice. He certainly didn't say anything. He just stared out the window at nothing.

He looked surprised when we pulled up in front of his Crystal City building. Where did he think we were going? 

I paid the driver. It was late enough that no one could see us in the lobby or the elevator, so he was spared that humiliation. He looked at me strangely when I entered the apartment with him. 

"You don't have to do this, Mulder. You can go home now." 

I looked at him. He wasn't looming anymore. If anything, he looked shrunken, his broad shoulders rounding in and his head lowered. He looked defeated in more than body. I could almost see his despair and a different anger hanging over him. He didn't want me there. I didn't care.

"Let me at least help you take care of your injuries. It's the least I can do."

"You don't owe me anything." He'd fought me, hadn't he? I owed him everything.

"Okay. I still think you should let me help you. Or, if you'd prefer, I could call Scully."

"No!" He took a deep breath. "You do it. I don't need more than some basic first aid. Nothing feels broken."

I nodded. He slowly climbed the stairs to his bedroom and led me into his bathroom. He took off the remains of his shirt as I rummaged around for supplies. His left eye was swollen shut, his nose and his mouth were bleeding and he was getting some spectacular bruises on his body. When I pressed them gently, he winced but that was about it. If he *had* broken something, I'd have called Scully in a second.

I washed off the blood and wrung out a face cloth in as cold water as I could get. "Do you have something I can use as an ice pack, sir?"

He shrugged. I pressed the cold cloth against his face and sprinted downstairs to his kitchen. There was a package of frozen peas in his freezer. 

Scully kept one in mine for just this reason, replacing it as needed. This was the only use I could find for peas - they certainly weren't food.

He was still sitting on his toilet, still holding the cloth against his face. His eyes were empty and cold. All his anger was gone. I replaced the cloth with the peas. The package was big, big enough to reach his eye and his mouth. He was starting to shiver. The bathroom was too cold.

I led him back to his bedroom, frightened by how passive he'd become. At my urging, he stripped off his ruined trousers and put on a set of sweats I'd rummaged out of his dresser. He didn't even seem to care I'd done that. He let me put him in his bed and didn't even lift an eyebrow when I kicked off my shoes and climbed in next to him, still fully dressed. Still probably smelling of leather daddy. I needed a shower badly. I made him hold the package of peas back to his face.

"Why are you doing this, Mulder?"

"You're hurt. I want to...make you hurt less." I wanted him to not hurt at all. I wanted him to loom again.

"How can you even stand to look at me?" He turned away from me, still holding the peas.

"Sir, if I had my way, I'd never stop looking at you." 

"What are you saying?" He was confused and startled.

"You didn't know? Why did you follow me to that bar, then?"

He chuckled slightly. "All about Mulder again? I went to that bar because I like it. I've been there before."

"Oh."

"Not that I can ever go back." He folded back in on himself.

"Sir? Maybe you won't need to?" I tentatively touched his shoulder, in a place I knew wasn't bruised. He jerked away.

"Why were you there, Mulder? Why were you with him?"

I had to tell him the truth. "Because...he was what I needed. Wanted. Kersh chewed me out again today. He didn't like my last report, with good reason. But he stopped short of actually doing anything or even threatening anything, just sent me back to my little desk. It...wasn't enough. So I went there. I've been there before. I'll get someone who is willing to settle for an overaged bottom and angry enough about it to make it rough and hard. Just like tonight." I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He turned over to face me. "Did he hurt you?" He touched my lips, which felt swollen and bruised from that kiss. "He did."

"He did nothing I didn't want him to do. Nothing that would leave a mark on my body." I gently stroked a bruise on his chest.

"Just on your soul. Isn't that damaged enough, Mulder?" He was angry again, but there was something more, something warm. Something I couldn't touch.

I hid my growing relief in a shrug. "I'll survive. Why were you there? To pick up some pretty boy of your own?" Was that jealously in my voice?

"I don't know. I've felt so...helpless lately. I've been doing my best to get you and Scully back on the X-files. Spender and Fowley haven't done anything at all since they got there. At least you two were productive. Strange, but productive." There was that chuckle again. He winced at his smile. I readjusted his ice pack. "Your 'friend' found me in a mood for a fight. And seeing him with you, and seeing the way you were walking when you got out of that back room just set me off. You don't deserve that, Mulder." He was angry again, but it wasn't directed at me. That something else was.

"What do I deserve, then?" I had to whisper.

"This." And he kissed me, softly and gently. It hurt, but not the way leather daddy's did. I shivered. "And this." He pulled me close to him. I put my head on his shoulder. "Yes, like that." His voice was a whisper, but it reached my soul.

"Sir?" I tried to pull away.

"I'm not your superior any more, Mulder. Walter."

"Walter." It felt odd on my lips, but very right. I smiled. 

"You still...even after..."

"Shh. Yeah. If you don't mind that I..."

"So long as it never happens again...Fox." To my surprise, the name sounded good coming from him. It was all mixed up in that something else. But the rest...

"Walter? What are you saying? What do you mean?" 

He held me tighter, even though I knew it caused him pain. "I don't want to see you hurt...hurt more. I want to see you smile, see you happy. See you whole."

I pulled away. "I don't know if that's possible. I don't know if I want that...I need the pain sometimes."

"I can't give that to you." His whisper was full of regret. "All I can do is try to make you not need it."

Not need the pain? Not need to be made to cry in the back room of a bar? "Why does that hurt you? That I need it? Is that why you..."

"I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I was feeling territorial. I have no right to feel that way. I have no claim on you."

I couldn't breathe. He was bleeding and bruised because he felt something for me. And something inside me answered him. I didn't put a name on it, but I knew what it was. I could only whisper. "You could. You could have any claim you want." With those words, I buried my face in my hands. I felt naked, more than when leather daddy had pulled down my jeans in that backroom and tossed me face down on that filthy mattress. My soul was bare to this man, and I could not hide it again.

I felt his strong arms gather me in. His hands, as gentle as they were strong, began to stroke me under my shirt, skittering across my nipples. I couldn't speak, I couldn't moan. I could only breathe.

He took off the t-shirt, my arms moving according to his will, and then pulled my jeans down and off. I grew hard at his gentle probe, and he smiled. He stroked me with skill and strength as I lay passive beneath his touch.

He stripped off his sweats. He was bruised and purple underneath, everywhere. I hardly knew if I could touch him. Except he was also aroused and so masculinely beautiful I had to try. I drew him down beside me and fastened my mouth on his nipples, first one then the other. He moaned and stroked my back, bringing us closer together.

"Walter, are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes. I want you to make love to me."

Love. That was the word I was avoiding. For a long moment I was so stunned by that that I didn't process the rest of the statement. "You want me to...but, I'm...you're..."

"I know. You can do it, and I don't want to go where he was, not now."

"You'll have to show me how. Are you sure I won't make you hurt more?" 

"You could never hurt me, Fox."

I'd never been inside a man before, and rarely inside a woman. Skinner opened up and welcomed me as if I were going home for the first time. And when we were finished, he took me again in his arms and I fell asleep there, where I belonged.

Copyright 1999 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates


End file.
